Falling Skies
by Skilpaddene
Summary: Germany is unable to cope with the loss of his brother, Prussia. As Italy lends emotional support, and the other nations get involved, they soon learn that they are all grieving over someone they love. Contains Gerita.
1. Chapter 1

**In Germany's Home Office**

After coming out of work ahead of schedule, Ludwig came across one of those rare occasions when he actually had some time to spare. He had carefully weighed his options, and decided to get ahead on the week's paperwork. As he penned his signature on the last page, a shrill, startling tone filled his ears, and he glanced up to see that the phone on his desk was ringing uncontrollably. Sighing, he reached for it, then put it to his ear and answered "Hallo?"

"Germany, you have to come help me! I'm in a situation and I don't know what to do," a panicked, familiar voice came from the other end. "Please, Ludwig, you're the only one that can do it!"

Dammit. It gets him every time. He just couldn't say no to the boy, _especially_ when he used his human name. He always tried to live up to the trust and expectations of his allies, but Italy had a very strange set of expectations. Rubbing his temples with his fingers, he replied "Alright, Italy. Tell me where you are and I'll go to help."

"Okay! I'm at my house, come and get me!" He sounded a bit too happy to be in any serious trouble, but if Ludwig knew anything about him, it was that he was unpredictable. In fact, it had become the one thing he could rely on in his life, that and his older brother's arrogance. Ludwig said goodbye to Italy and hung up the phone, then grabbed his wool coat off the back of his chair.

"Brüder, I'm going out!" he shouted across the house, hoping that his voice had carried far enough to be heard by Prussia, who was probably already deaf from the sound of his own voice by now. An irritated voice replied, though not the one he was expecting. Austria, who had been visiting over the weekend, exclaimed "Prussia isn't here anymore!"

That was weird, he could have sworn that he saw him a few minutes ago when he was working. He shrugged his shoulders. He probably found something "cool" to do, and ran off for the night.

 **Later, at Italy's House**

Germany walked up the steps to Italy's front door. The hanging plants and brick porch, framed by a warm sunset, made a beautiful scene. He stopped to take a deep breath of fresh air, and listen to the tingling sound of the light breeze rustling a nearby set of wind chimes. Regardless of any circumstances, he always felt at ease when he visited the house, as if all his previous stress melted away whenever he crossed the porch.

He dang the doorbell, and almost immediately heard the pitter-patter of Italy's footsteps across the floors, which were almost entirely hardwood. Soon after, an auburn head appeared behind the engraved oval glass in the entry door. Italy flung the door open. Rather than taking any steps towards the German, he stretched his arms out wide, then wrapped them around the man and threw all his weight forward. This was a trick that Ludwig knew well. In order to keep Italy from falling flat on his face, he was forced to return the hug.

He caught the Italian in his arms, then waited for him to regain his footing. The embrace lingered for a second longer, then they separated. Italy's face brightened as he greeted his visitor. "Ciao, Ludwig! Thanks for coming!"

"Ciao..." he said awkwardly. "So, what was this emergency that you were so worked up over on the phone?"

"Oh, well I actually just wanted to see you. You haven't visited in a while, and I missed you. I figured that you would definitely come if I made it look like an emergency!"

Ludwig sighed, then stepped into the house and removed his coat, hanging it on a nearby rack. "You know, if you wanted to see me you could have just asked, and I would have come," he said. "You had me worried, calls like that usually mean you're being attacked again."

"Nope, not this time!" Italy teased. To be honest with himself, he knew that Germany's concern made him feel warm and secure compared to his usual strict attitude. Only one other person had this effect on him. Italy shook his head, and his eyes drifted to the floor. That was a long time ago.

Germany broke the silence. "I haven't seen Brüder around lately, and I'm not sure whether he's avoiding me, Rodreich, or Elizaveta. Any thoughts as to where he might be hiding?"

Italy froze up. His hands turned clammy, and it was as if he was drained of all his words to respond with. He turned his head, and regained a bit of his composure, then stammered "Y-yeah, I wouldn't know..." He was saved by the kitchen timer, which alerted him about a dish in the oven. "Oh, dinner is ready! You're going to love this one, Ludwig. I made it just for us..." Despite his best efforts to stay cheerful, he couldn't stop his voice from trailing off at the end of his sentence.

A painful, somewhat recent memory resurfaced as Italy walked into the kitchen. When he had heard the news, he immediately wanted to run to Germany, but Hungary held him back. She clung to his arm and begged him not to speak of it, because Germany hadn't taken it well. Since then, Italy couldn't bring himself to meet with Germany until today, and nothing could have prepared him for this. He worried about Ludwig every night as he lay in bed. _How long would he be in denial?_


	2. Chapter 2

"Italy, are you all right?" Ludwig asked. "Something seems off about you today..."

Italy shook his head, trying to clear out all the strange feelings, then put on a smile and spin around to face his ally. "I'm fine, Ludwig. It's just been a while since I had a siesta, so I'm a little tired tonight.""It looks like more than that," he responded skeptically. "You look kind of pale, are you sure you're not getting sick?" He closed the distance between them, and gently placed his palm over Italy's forehead. Italy shivered under his touch, and blinked a few times as he tried to process the situation. In the past, Italy had always been the one to give hugs and cheek kisses upon greeting, all of which Germany had stiffly accepted. However, the few times when the German had made physical contact with him, he had ended up thrilled and confused at the same time.

"Hmm, it's not a fever." Ludwig said.

"I-I'm fine, really."

"Well, if you say so." Instead of dropping his hand, he moved his fingers to the side, and brushed a stray curl behind Italy's ear. His lips turned up into a smile. "That curl has been bugging me since I met you." The boy turned bright red, and turned his face away from the hand."I'm sorry. I have to get the dinner." He crossed the kitchen, grabbed a couple of mitts, and quickly pulled the lasagna from the oven. After opening an overhead cupboard, he remembered that his best plates were on the top shelf. He stretched his arm up as far as it would go, and tried to extend his reach by balancing on his toes, but the plates were just barely out of his grasp. "Um, Ludwig, could you..." He heard a sigh behind him, and Ludwig unceremoniously grabbed two plates and placed them on the counter.

After serving the meal, the two nations sat across from each other at the dining table. Germany gave a fully detailed lecture about maintaining proper sleep and eating habits, but Italy only listened to about half of it, even though he knew that Germany was being concerned for his sake. After the lecture drew to a close, a short silence fell between them. Until Germany interrupted it again, with a question that Italy wasn't expecting.

"Italy, why don't you use a human name?"

"I used to... but only with one person that I was really close to when I was a kid." He couldn't think of any other response, so he'd slipped and blurted out the truth. He tried to avoid the sensitive topic. "It's really more of a personal issue. I don't like to talk about it much."

"Oh," Ludwig said in disappointment. "I don't fully understand, but I can respect your privacy. I don't usually pry like my brother." His eyebrows knit together in concern, and he lowered his eyes. He could tell that Ludwig wasn't used to him keeping secrets. Italy didn't like it either.

"Uh, speaking of Gilbert... how is he?" Italy asked. It was an awkward question, and even though Elizaveta had told him to avoid talking about it, it would take the attention off his human name. Besides, if he managed to gather the tiniest bit of information, he might be able to help him cope.

"Oh, Brüder hasn't been around as much, but he still finds the time to drop by every now and then to pester me, usually when I'm working. We went out for drinks the other day, and he made me pay for his tab again."

"Well, I guess he's the same as always." Italy's stomach knotted into a ball, and his breathing slowed. Ludwig still... saw him? This went far beyond a simple grieving denial or lack of acceptance. He needed serious help, more than Italy could offer him alone. Blinking away the burning tears that threatened to escape, he changed the topic and hoped that they could make it through the rest of dinner smoothly.

 **After Dinner**

"Thanks for the meal, Italy. It was delicious."

"Oh, it's the least I could do after making you come all the way here for no reason," Italy replied.

"Not for 'no reason,' I got to see you, didn't I?" Italy blushed, and handed Ludwig his coat as he walked him to the door. Ludwig accepted the coat, and pulled it over his shoulders before opening the door and stepping outside.

He was about to walk to the street, but he suddenly stopped, and turned back to Italy. He planted a soft kiss on each of his cheeks, then waved as he walked down the patio steps. "Auf wiedersehen, Italy."

"Ciao..." Italy gave a weak wave in return. He watched Ludwig get into his car, then waited until he was completely out of sight before shutting the door. He sighed, and turned away from the front door, then collapsed on a nearby armchair in the entryway. He lifted his hand to his cheek, still feeling the warmth. Whether it was from Ludwig's kiss or from blushing so much, he didn't know. Throughout the years, he had tried everything in his power to just be _friends_ with Ludwig, but it was becoming increasingly harder each time they met. Every time they touched, he had begged his stomach to untwist, and his heart to stop pounding, but it was as if he didn't have control over his body in those moments.

He brought his legs up onto the edge of the chair, then wrapped his arms around them and put his head down in silence. He couldn't fall in love again. He promised he would wait, no matter how many centuries it took. He liked Ludwig... a _lot_ , but he couldn't break that promise. He still thought about that boy every morning, tried to memorize his face and his voice, desperately clinging to their brief time together. A tear rolled down his cheek and he whispered "When is he coming back?"


	3. Chapter 3

Italy smiled as a small child in a black coat stared into him with big, loving blue eyes. A slight breeze rustled the leaves on the nearby trees, and birds chirped happily under the sun. A lake's still waters reflected the fluffy clouds overhead, and time seemed to roll along like sweet honey. They could have been lost in each other's eyes for hours.

The birds fell from the sky, dead. The boy's face darkened and he turned from Italy. The leaves on the trees turned to a sickening black color, and a chilling gust of howling wind tore them off, leaving nothing but a skeleton of jagged branches. The black cloak flashed before Italy's eyes, and he realized that the boy was walking away. Italy suddenly felt a hideous pain in his chest, and a gut wrenching urge to follow him. He reached out his arms and stumbled foreward, then desperately broke I into a sprint. Just as he was about to grasp his cloak, the boy stepped onto the lake's surface, and his small feet flowed across the water. Italy stopped at the bank, gasping and holding out a hand as though he were begging the boy to stay.

"Please, don't leave me here..."

The boy slowed to a stop halfway across the lake. Without turning, he whispered "You lied to me. You said you would wait forever." The words weren't angry, or sad. Just empty and monotonous, as though the boy could not bring himself to feel any emotion beyond disappointment. He took another step. A shot tore through Italy's chest, and he fell to his knees, watching the love of his life leave him all over again.

The beautiful lake crumbled into darkness.

* * *

"Wake up, dammit!"

Italy felt something hit him on the head. It was a soft object, but there was enough force behind it that it hurt enough to bring him out of his groggy sleep. He opened his eyelids slightly, and saw Lovino gripping a pillow, frowning.

" _Fratello?_ "

"Yes, _fratello_ ," Lovino spat the word. "Come on, I dragged you to bed last night after you passed out in a chair. The least you could do is get up on time."

"Aww, but I'm still tired. Can't I sleep in a little tiny itsy-bitsy bit?" Italy whined. He settled back into his pillow and closed his eyes.

"I'm disowning you until you get your ass out of bed! Don't you know there's a world meeting today?"

Italy turned his head back to his brother and mumbled "A world meeting... but isn't it Thursday?"

"Yeah, it's Thursday. The meeting was scheduled for Thursday, Arthur sent out emails, didn't you get one?"

Italy's eyes widened and he jumped out of bed. "Oh, I remember now! It got lost in a bunch of other emails, so I forgot I had it!"

Lovino scowled. "I told you that Facebook would spam your inbox, but you didn't listen. And now we're two hours late because of it." He reached over to a nearby dresser, then pulled out a shirt and threw it at his brother. "Get dressed, we're leaving soon."

Italy attempted to catch the shirt, but failed miserably when it slipped out of his arms and fell to the floor. He sighed and bent over to pick it up. "You know, Lovino, if you were so worried about being late, you could have left without me."

"I was hungry, so I was waiting for you to get up and make me breakfast." He turned his head. "I got sick of waiting, so I called Antonio over and made him cook. But he made it all wrong."

"Antonio? Is he still here?" Italy had barely finished his sentence, when the Spaniard suddenly busted through the doorway with a grin across his face, as usual.

He held up two white, children's sized aprons, swishing them from side to side. "Look what I found! It's been centuries since I've seen you two wear these!" Lovino turned bright red, and tried to snatch one of the aprons away from him.

"That was a long time ago, bastard. Give it back, you're not my boss anymore!"

Italy laughed as he watched his brother frantically try to grab the apron as Antonio dodged him. He finished dressing, then called out "We're going to be even more late now! Lovino, if there's no time for me to sleep in, then how is there time for you to play with Antonio?"

Lovino mouth gaped and he stopped what he was doing, then rushed out the door, pulling Italy along with him. "Then let's go, Veneziano." He lingered for a bit in the hallway, then shouted loud enough to be heard back in the bedroom. "Antonio, you're driving!"

Another shout responded "I was planning on that anyways! I don't feel safe when Italians are behind the wheel!" Some footsteps rapidly approached the brothers, and Antonio joined them on their way through the kitchen. He grabbed three sandwiches in Ziploc bags. "I made us some _meriendas_ to eat later. I put them in little baggies!"

"No one gives a shit about your baggies," Lovino said.

The three of them left the house, and walked to the street where Antonio had parked his car. Antonio opened the passenger door for Lovino, who ignored him and opened the back door. Italy took the opportunity and called shotgun, hopping into the front seat and thanking Antonio for holding the door. Antonio shrugged, and took his place behind the wheel. After accidentally backing over the trashcans on the curb, he switched to the proper gear, and carpooled the Italians to the world meeting.


	4. Chapter 4

**At the World Meeting**

Antonio and the Italian brothers walked through the hallway, and stopped at the large conference room where the rest of the nations had already gathered. When they opened the door, everyone stopped their usual bickering to comment on their repeated tardiness, and to give them advice on ways to wake up on time, assuming they had overslept. The chatter continued as they took their seats, and it quickly branched into unrelated side conversations. Ludwig watched the whole endeavor, and after checking his watch, his face contorted in frustration and he shouted "Everyone _shut up!_ We are here for business!"

After a while, the crowd calmed down, and Alfred split up Francis and Arthur before they killed each other. Ludwig's face softened once more, and his eyes lit up as he spoke to Italy. "Better late than never. Try to wake up next time."

"Sorry _capitano_ , but you visited so late last night, and I didn't think I would be up that long," Italy pouted.

Ludwig gave him a little smile and shook his head. Some whispers and gossiping emerged from the other nations, but Ludwig cut them off. "Anyways, now that everyone who decided to attend is here, we can take role." He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil, then began to mark in the attendance records, calling out each nation in alphabetical order. Eventually, he got to the P's, and everyone started to get uncomfortable.

"Poland?" he called.

"Poland shot his arm up from behind Lithuania. "I am right here, how can you not see this?"

Ludwig ignored his comments and silently put a check next to his name before moving on. "Portugal?"

"Here," came a voice from the back. Another check.

"Prussia?"

The room fell completely silent, and everyone froze up, anxiously waiting for Ludwig's reaction to his brother's absence. His eyes focused on an empty chair between Antonio and Francis. His brows knitted together, and he put his hand to his forehead.

"I don't need that attitude, Brüder, all you needed to say was here." He looked down to his roster sheet, and put a check next to Prussia's name. The crowd exchanged concerned glances in silence, and a few solemn nods were given. Italy watched the whole scene with wide eyes, but decided that he couldn't look anymore. He turned his head, biting his lip to keep from speaking out of line. Ludwig continued taking attendance, and the remaining "here's" eased everyone's nerves a bit, and the atmosphere returned to normal. The rest of the meeting continued with a few bumps as possible, but they still finished without coming to any substantial conclusions to the issues they discussed.

 **After the Meeting**

"Good work, everyone" Ludwig said. "Even though we didn't get anything done. At least no one got hurt this time." He packed his folders and writing utensils into a bag, then grabbed his coat and rose from his seat. "I'll be taking my leave now. Italy, are you coming too?"

Italy nodded and moved to stand, but his brother grabbed his arm to stop him. Italy looked down to see Lovino shaking his head with a stern expression. He was usually upset about something, but this was... different. Italy scratched his head and sat back down. "Actually, I think I'll wait a bit and leave with brother." He looked back at Ludwig and mouthed "I'm sorry." Ludwig nodded, and headed out the door, followed by many other nations. Italy sat in waiting, growing more and more nervous as people started to leave. After a while, the only ones left were him, Lovino, Antonio, Francis, Roderich, Elizaveta, Arthur, Alfred, and Ivan. Though the crowd was significantly smaller now, Italy suddenly felt claustrophobic as the remaining nations exchanged knowing glances. They had definitely planned something for this meeting.

"Now that it's just us, we can get down to the real reason we scheduled this meeting," Arthur interjected, breaking the silence and anticipation that had engulfed the room. "We need to talk about Ludwig."

"Ludwig..." A small whisper escaped Italy's lips as his eyes widened in acknowledgement. He knew what this was about, but he had to ask. He had to know that this was all real. "But... why?" He couldn't find the words, but he knew that even if he had them, he wouldn't have the strength to speak.

"I think you know why. Ludwig is... sick." Arthur responded.

"But how do you know?" Italy asked. "I thought that only me and-" He looked over to Elizaveta, who gave him a sad smile.

"It was me, you idiot." Lovino cut into the conversation. "I was the one who planned the meeting. I told everyone."

Italy's eyes snapped over to his brother, and his mouth dropped open in disbelief. "But you don't like Ludwig, so why would you do this for him?"

Lovino grew outraged at Italy's confused expression, and grabbed his shirt pulling him out of his chair. "I _didn't_ do this for him! I hate that potato bastard, and you know it!" He drew his fist up in what appeared to be a motion to punch, and Italy flinched and shut his eyes. Instead, Lovino pointed his finger at his face in rage. "I did this for _you_! You're so obsessed with the man, and seeing him all fucked up is hurting you!" His demeanor softened a bit, and he boiled down to a concerned frown. He released Italy's shirt, and put both hands on his shoulders. He stared right into his eyes. "I've had to carry you to bed for the third time this month. I've seen you breaking down. It's killing you."

Tears welled up in Italy's eyes, and he pulled his brother into a tight hug. " _Fratello_ , I'm so sorry!" He grasped Lovino even tighter. "I had no idea. All this time, you cared so much, and I... All I could think about was Ludwig..."

Lovino raised his arms up and tenderly returned the hug. "What the hell are you apologizing for? Ludwig is your happiness, and I'll do anything to protect that. I don't like him, but I care for him because you love him."

Italy shivered at the word "love." He had a very strong, deep connection with Ludwig, but he was saving his love, even if he had to wait forever. He would keep his promise. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind, and he spoke it without hesitation. "Lovino, what's your happiness?"

"Family," he answered in a heartbeat. Images of a strong, handsome man flashed across his mind. After a few seconds, the man's gentle smiles faded, and he aged into a scarred, bloodstained warrior. His iron chest plate was inscribed with the letters SPQR.


	5. Chapter 5

"So what are we going to do? How will we help him?" Italy asked.

"Well, it seems to be mostly denial right now, like he can't accept Gilbert's death..." Arthur responded.

"We could take him to Prussia's grave!" said Ivan, a bit too cheerily. He put his elbows on the table, and leaned towards everyone. His scarf fell off his shoulder and landed on Alfred's hand.

Alfred quickly pulled his hand away and shivered. "I don't think that's a good idea, man."

"And how would you know? Have you ever lost someone, Mr. America?" Everyone gasped at the personal question. He just never knew when to stop.

Alfred looked away. "Yes... but that was a really long time ago. I was just a kid."

"At least we have that in common." Ivan gave him a knowing smile, and his eerie presence dispersed. Alfred relaxed a bit. Meanwhile, Francis had slumped in his chair, and appeared to have his mind on someone else.

Arthur glanced around the room at everyone's solemn expressions, and sighed. "I know this is hard to do, but visiting Gilbert's grave may be the only way to get Ludwig to snap out of it." He addressed Italy, whose eyes had been darting back and forth in a panic the whole time he was listening. "Italy, ultimately I think it should be up to you. What do you think we should do?"

"Well," he started slowly, "I know that if you didn't see someone die, and there's no grave, then you'll always have a hope that they're still alive." He sounded as if he spoke from experience. "So maybe, seeing a grave will help? But it's going to make him really sad..."

"It's going to be sad no matter what we do, Italy. It may be better to get him to accept the death, then comfort him afterwards."

"Yeah, I guess so..." Italy trailed off.

"Then it's settled." Arthur rose from his chair. "Two days from now, let's bring Ludwig to the cemetery in Berlin. I hope to see you all there, he's going to need all the support he can get." He took his coat off the back of the chair. "I guess you can all go home now, thank you for coming."

No one said a word, but they all silently rose from their seats and collected their things. Antonio gave the Italies a ride back to their house. Roderich carpooled with Elizaveta, and grumbled about gas prices as they walked to the parking lot. Francis noticed that he seemed to be walking much faster than his usual leisurely pace, and that he was a bit pale. "Poor bastard. He's been with Gilbert for centuries, and now he's gone... I know how it feels." He sighed, then left for his own car.

In the hallway, Arthur walked along with Alfred, and after making sure everyone had left, he placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder. "Hey, I saw you talking about that boy again. Are you all right?"

"Arthur, I'm fine." Arthur flashed him a worried look, and he caved and told him the truth. "It's an old scar, but it still hurts."

Arthur nodded, then dropped his hand. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Two Days Later**

Today was the day, and Italy was reluctant to bring Germany to the cemetery. He laid awake for hours the night before, tossing and turning as he thought about the best way to approach Ludwig. When he woke up this morning, Romano was passed out in a chair next to the bed, and Italy knew that he was just as worried. To think that he was going through so much stress just for him. Italy decided to let Romano sleep a bit longer. Just as he turned to leave, something caught his eye, and he looked over to see that Romano's hands were loosely clutching a picture frame in his lap. Italy carefully removed it without disturbing Romano. He flipped it over, and smiled slightly when he saw an old drawing of him, his brother, and Grandpa Rome with his arms around their shoulders. He kissed it softly and propped it on the nightstand, then took a blanket off the bed and carefully draped it over Romano. He tip-toed out of the room, and slowly shut the door behind him.

The drive to Germany's house was the longest he'd ever experienced, yet he still wished it was longer. So many thoughts were spinning through his head, and he didn't know what to do with them. He tried turning the radio up. The noise made his head hurt. He turned it off. The silence scared him. He drove quickly. He drove slowly. He rolled the windows up and down and adjusted the mirrors. He began to tap his feet at stoplights, but the taps turned to shivers. By the time he reached Germany's driveway, his whole body was trembling.

It took all of his willpower to lift his hand and ring the doorbell.

The door opened slightly, and a blue eye appeared from behind the chain bolt. "Ja?" he sounded a little annoyed that someone would be at his door so early in the morning. He looked down and met Italy's eyes. The door immediately slammed shut, followed by the clacking of the chain, and it flew open again. "Italy? Mein Gott, you're shaking all over. Are you all right? Come inside." Ludwig took his hand and ushered him inside, leading him to the living room couch.

"I-I'm okay." Italy replied, though his voice wasn't very convincing.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should take you to a doctor. You've been acting strange lately." He put a hand on Italy's shoulder.

"No! I'm fine!" Ludwig took a step back and pulled his hand away. Maybe he said that a little too loud. He looked up at him, but his eyes started burning and he had to lower his gaze. He patted the seat next to him on the couch.

Ludwig sat down, and turned towards the Italian. "Come on, don't do this to me. Just tell me what's wrong."

"I would, I just..." A lump formed in his throat and he struggled to find the right words. Ludwig gave him some time, then he swallowed and said "We need to go somewhere."

"Go somewhere? Where do you want to go?"

"I can't-" he cut himself off. "We just need to go. Now. I'll drive." He stood, and shuffled towards the door. Germany followed after him, forgetting his coat, his phone, _and_ his keys. He didn't even let the dogs out. For some reason, his Italy had become hollow. He was scared, and he'd lost a huge part of himself. Getting it back was all that mattered.

Germany tried to get an explanation, but it was obvious that Italy wasn't able to talk about it. In fact, he wasn't able to talk at all. The drive was completely silent, but Germany had his eyes on Italy the entire time.


End file.
